"Father! Father... it's me, your son!"
A scream, the last trace of innocence, faded away, replaced by a hoarse, rugged voice. It was an old man, grunting as if struggling to speak of something long lost to the past.
Louis Clark sat in the booth, listening to the entire recording. His face remained calm, the demeanor of a seasoned veteran. This old detective had been in the business for ages, yet this new case sent shivers down his spine as he listened to the tape.
"How is it possible that Little Johnny grew into an old man and passed away, while his father is only 40?"
Fiddling with a pen between his fingers, he pondered, lost in rhetorical questions to which he had no answers.
Suddenly, the door opened, and a man in a turban and a suit entered the room. His steps were precise, there was something about him screamed order, suggesting he might have served in the military once in his life.
"Kuldeep Singh, police officer in charge of this case."
He extended his hand toward Louis.
Louis shook his hand as he turned up the volume.
"How can a man turn into an old man in seconds?"
He glanced at the cassette as he posed the question. He knew the officer wouldn't have an answer, but this strange query was better left hanging in the air than trapped in his mind.
At the moment, Kuldeep pointing towards the cassette playing, said with hoarse voice.
"After the forensic department report, there is no doubt."
Louis eyes flickering between cassette and Kuldeep, but ultimately, he sighed.
He had no answer.
Rising from his seat, he bowed to Kuldeep and left.
He needed some air to clear his head.
As he strode down the hallway, he encountered officers of various ranks, greeting and bowing to them as he made his way to the exit. A renowned detective who had solved countless cases, this one was proving to be far more challenging, a supernatural puzzle rather than his typical criminal investigation.
"Everything is tough to crack at the beginning," he muttered to himself.
As he stood outside near the alleyway, he lit a cigarette and smoked it, the swirling smoke blending with the cold night air, mingling with the steam of his hot breath in the icy wind.
Louis exhaled the smoke, lost in memories of the past. He couldn't quite recall why, but a particular case kept creeping into his thoughts.
It had been a case handled by his mentor, a seasoned detective who had worked from the Georgian era through to the Victorian era. He had seen it all, the formation of detective groups like the Bow Street Runners to Scotland Yard, and the advent of forensic science. He had witnessed it all.
Yet, that detective had failed to solve one case, a gruesome case involving the mutilation of victims' corpses. There was no discernible pattern, just horrific killings.
The killer was known as the Mid-Night Butcher.
After a two-year chase, the case was believed to be solved, but it wasn't.
When the detective was 56 years old, he received a letter, 38 years after the case had closed. It was from the killer, inviting him to rejoin the game.
The game of cat and mouse continues between them to this day.
"Why am I remembering this?" he murmured, taking another drag from his cigarette.
Kuldeep stepped out of the station and spotted Louis lingering near the alleyway, calling out to him.
"Another body has been found near Lambeth Bridge in Westminster."
---
The light was dim as the gas street lamps flickered. While some streets were transitioning from gas to electric lighting, Lambeth and most of central London remained firmly gaslit at the time.
Through the glow of the lamps, policemen and a detective strode towards the crime scene. The body of a 23-year-old woman had been pulled from beneath the bridge, drowned and mutilated.
Louis firmly covered his face with a handkerchief. Kuldeep, too shocked by the scene, unknowingly took a few steps back, but his fellow constable gestured for him to take command.
"Alright, secure the area. Detective, talk to the witness!"
Kuldeep followed Louis to the witness, the one who first discovered the body.
The witness said, "My name is Annie. I was on my way to work when I stopped for a moment to catch my breath and found the body under the bridge. I don't know how it got there, sir. I didn't see anyone else, just the body."
Louis nodded slowly as he listened to her, while Kuldeep watched from the sidelines, occasionally stepping in to cross-check or ask additional questions.
After a brief interrogation, they let her go. She didn't seem to know much, and both of them could tell she wasn't the killer. Their intuition and experience told them as much. However, they warned her that they might visit her again or ask her to appear at the station for further investigation.
Kuldeep sighed, "Any idea?"
Louis firmly shook his head.
Kuldeep remained silent as he walked towards one of his constables.
"It's eating me..."
The killer took her to the river, drowned her, and then mutilated her for everyone to see. There is clear hatred here; perhaps they knew each other. The victim willingly came to Lambeth Bridge to talk, unaware of the killer's true motive.
The killer is someone known to the victim.
The way the body was mutilated shows pure anger—no pattern, no symbolism. This isn't a ritual; it's an impulsive act of rage. The killer truly despised her.
If not, then it's the work of a copycat serial killer, someone craving attention. He'll strike again, and he'll succeed before we can catch him—so lucky, he is. The city is already in chaos, and now with another killer on the loose, it'll be even harder for us to track him down.
Louis lit another cigarette as he gazed at the Thames River, losing himself in thought.
"What are you doing, Sir Thomas?" he muttered.